What is a Prince Without His Princess?
by Marlee92
Summary: Clarke left Camp Jaha and Bellamy takes on extra work around the camp to compensate for feeling like he's missing a part of himself. He blames himself for not stopping her (as does Abby) and the extra work keeps his mind off of his missing princess, though her absence seems to be the only thing anyone wants to talk about.
1. Chapter 1

**Hey guys! I'm considering continuing this little drabble,**

**so if you like it make sure you comment on it, as that is what encourages me to write more!**

**Plus I like to know if ya'll really like the story line!**

**xoxo**

"It's so cold out here," Monty complains for the millionth time since the sun set hours before. Bellamy, who was scheduled at the same post as Monty, runs his hand down his face exhausted.

"Monty, I swear to God, if you complain one more time about the temperature I will shoot you and tell everyone else I thought you were a Grounder." He shoots Monty a glare, his voice only half teasing.

"Alright, alright," Monty says, lifting his hands in defense. "I just don't understand why you always volunteer for this shift, that's all." That's a lie; Monty knows that Bellamy volunteers for the post farthest away from the camp in hopes that he'll see Clarke wandering through the forest at night. He sighs heavily and leans back against a tree stump. "When is the shift over again?"

"Sunrise." The remainder of the night passes in silence with Monty fighting to keep his eyes open and Bellamy staring intently into the surrounding trees. When the sun finally makes its appearance over the horizon Monty stands straight up.

"Finally," he breathes. If last night taught him anything it's that he is not built for guard duty. "Let's get back to camp."

"You go ahead," Bellamy glances back at him and Monty notices in the early morning light the dark circles under his previous leader's eyes and the way they seem to have sunk deeper into his skull. "I think I'm going to go hunting for a bit. Maybe try to pick up some more herbs that I overheard Abby talking about being low on."

"Is that really a good idea? You look dead on your feet." Bellamy offers up nothing and just stares blankly at Monty. "Seriously, Bellamy, this isn't healthy. We all miss Clarke, okay? But working yourself to death won't do anyone any good. You need to sleep. And eat."

"I do eat. I sleep just fine, thank you. Look, I appreciate the concern, but I am a big boy, Monty. I am fine."

"You don't look fine. If she wants to come back, she'll be back. Everyone copes differently, you know, she just needs some time." Monty looks Bellamy up and down and rules out the option of trying to physically force him back into the camp by himself. Bellamy would chew him up and spit him out before he could even begin to get a hold on him. He's just thinking that maybe he can sneak some milk of the poppy into his drink when Bellamy speaks up.

"Go get some sleep," and that was that. Bellamy turns and walks away, leaving Monty with no choice but to head back into camp worrying over his friend's health.

…

The cool air of the oncoming fall season always seems to put Bellamy's demons to rest for a brief time. He spends the time he had claimed for hunting sitting near a stream instead. He found this spot a few weeks ago and it helps soothe his soul. The sound of the water trickling slowly over the rocks and against the banks relaxes him just as much as the smell of wildflowers being brought to him on a cool breeze from the field across the water. He dips his left hand into the chilly water and exhales heavily.

When Clarke had decided to leave he didn't realize how much it would affect him. He knew he'd miss her, hell he'd missed her terribly while he was in Mount Weather. But this was a different kind of ache. It resonated deep in his bones and made every tiny task seem more daunting than before. Every day he tortures himself by reliving the last time he saw her, wishing he would've stopped her. But deep down he knows he never could have stopped her. He respects her and her choices too much to even attempt it. Abby had blamed him for "letting" her go. She had screamed at him, Kane's hand firmly on her shoulder to keep her from leaping at him.

"_Where's Clarke?" She'd asked him when he finally got back into the camp._

"_She left," he answered shortly. Abby had never hidden her dislike for him and in the current moment she had eyed him suspiciously._

"_When will she be back?" Her tone hinted that she had known the answer to her question but only wanted confirmation._

"_She won't be back. Not any time soon anyways." After he had explained what had happened, and before Kane had come into the room, Abby limped towards Bellamy, closing the distance remarkably fast for someone that had just been drilled into, and smacked him clean across the face. His cheek stung from the impact and he narrowed his eyes at her, his eyes also burned though that had less to do with the smack than it had to do with the rage that was building up inside of him._

"_Why didn't you stop her!?" She had yelled at him, bringing Kane into the room. Kane had taken one glance at the two of them, Bellamy with his jaw clenched and a dark storm brewing in his eyes and Abby, fire in hers and her hands clenched tightly into fists at her side._

"_What's going on here?" Kane asked, stepping between them. He glanced between them and his gaze rested on Bellamy, obviously expecting an explanation from him._

"_He let Clarke leave!" Abby lurched forward like she was going to attempt to hit him again before Kane grabbed her and wheeled her around into a chair._

"_You need to sit, Abby," he glanced calmly back at Bellamy, placing a gently but firm hand on Abby's shoulder to keep her sitting. "Where did Clarke go?"_

"_I have no idea," he clearly wasn't going to offer anymore up to them, even if he had known more. Bellamy had turned his glare back to Abby before adding with venom dripping from his voice, "And I didn't *let* her do anything, have you even *met* your daughter?" And with that he had stormed off towards his tent. _

After that Abby wouldn't so much as look in his direction let alone acknowledge his presence when the council made decisions for, well, anything. She was more than willing to allow him to work double shifts at guard posts, probably hoping he'd fall asleep with his finger on his trigger. She never tried to stop him when he went wandering out of camp and never asked for an explanation when he showed up way past curfew. Speaking of curfew, he glances up at the sky and realizes he has spent the entire day sitting by this stream. If he leaves now he'll make it back to camp just at curfew. Bellamy stands up, brushing the dirt from his pants, he really should start making an attempt to get back at a reasonable time. If he doesn't he's worried that he's going to drive Octavia to an early grave from worrying over him so much. He's just turning back in the direction of camp when he hears a twig snap behind him and a soft voice.

"Hey, stranger." He turns and there she is. She could be an angel with the way the sun is lighting up her golden waves creating a soft halo around her head.

"Clarke," he breathes gently.


	2. Chapter 2

To be honest he's not really sure what to expect. He's been thinking about this moment every waking moment for months now, dreaming about it every night. Yet, here she is; standing right in front of him and he isn't sure what to do. He tries to reconcile this face with that of the person that left him standing alone outside of the Ark's gates so long ago. Her hair is significantly longer now, reaching nearly to the middle of her back. And though her face is also dirtier than he last saw, he can still make out the tell tale white lines of freshly healed scars underneath her eyebrow and her cheekbone.

"Hey, Bellamy," she says almost shyly. A hesitant smile pulls at the corners of her lips but it is not returned. Instead, Bellamy's eyebrows go together in a tight line, wrinkling the dark skin on his forehead. Clarke can't help but notice the way the sun is starting to darken his freckles this early into the summer months. For a while neither of them speaks and the sun dips farther under the horizon, casting long shadows across Bellamy's face.

"What are you doing here?" His voice is rough and the coldness in it surprises even him.

"I-" She starts hesitantly. "I think… I mean, I'm ready to come home." She offers him another small smile but it is not returned.

"Right," he grunts in response before turning and heading back for the camp.

…

The gates creak open and at first nothing happens. And then, slowly and one by one, people turn in their direction. Whispers fly through the camp but Bellamy marches on, determined to take Clarke to Abby. They're almost to the door of the med bay when a blur of dark hair rushes past him and crashes into Clarke.

"Oomph!" She groans. "It's good to see you too, Monty." Bellamy glances back at her and sees her smiling from ear to ear as Monty seemingly attempts to squeeze her to death. Soon enough a swarm of people surrounded them, effectively edging Bellamy out of the way. He watches his people welcome Clarke back as if nothing happened; as if she had never left them. He leans back against the cold Ark wall and watches the crowd in the almost complete darkness, save for the fire light.

"You okay, big brother?" Octavia's voice startles him out of his own thoughts.

"Er, yeah. I'm fine, O. Looks like the princess is back."

"Looks like." Octavia falls silent before she elbows her brother in the ribs. "You should forgive her. I have. We all did things we're not proud of, right?" She cocks an eyebrow and her eyes bore into his.

"You're right," he says shortly. "But none of us took off to leave everyone else to fend for themselves."

Octavia shrugs. "Everyone copes differently, Bell. Cut her some slack. She killed a lot of people." At that he notices the edge in her voice.

"Forgiven her, have you?"

"I'm not going to pretend that I'm okay with everything she did," she says slowly. "She thought she was keeping you alive. And I realized I can't really fault her for that. I'd do a lot of things to keep you alive." She nudges him again and heads into the crowd to greet Clarke. Bellamy is sure that he sees tears in Clarke's eyes when Octavia approaches her. After a few moments Bellamy decides it's time, so he heads into the crowd, shoving people out of the way and finally reaches Clarke.

"You should probably see your mom."

"Oh," she says, as if she had completely forgotten she had a mom. "Right, let's go." They start to force their way back through the crowd and don't make much head way.

"ALRIGHT." He bellows, raising his voice above the people around him. "Clear out!" With grumbles of protest the kids start to clear a path for Clarke and Bellamy.

"Dr. Griffin?" Bellamy still refuses to call her Chancellor, unless using it sarcastically.

"Go away, Blake." Abby is bent over a table with a lantern shining brightly onto a piece of paper.

"I really think you'd be interested to see what I've found on my hunt tonight." With a deep breath of exasperation Abby straightens and tilts her head up towards the ceiling as if willing the gods to strike Bellamy down where he stands behind her.

"I don't really have time for-" she stops short when she turns around and comes face to face with her daughter. Bellamy smirks.

"Well, if you don't have time…" he mutters.

"Clarke?" Abby strides across the room and brings her hands to her daughters face, shoulders, hands. "Clarke, I can't believe you're back."

"Well, if you don't mind I'm just going to…" Bellamy let's his voice trail off as he slips out of the Ark back into the crisp night air. "Hey, Monty? Got any moonshine left over?" Monty grins at him and hands him an already poured cup. Bellamy gives him a questioning look and the grin spreads further across his face.

"We're having a celebration!" He calls and Bellamy, with a start, realizes that nearly everyone has a cup in their hands and for the first time in a long time everyone is talking loudly and laughing. "You know, a 'Clarke-is-back' celebration." Bellamy hands the cup back to him, suddenly not feeling up to the drink.

"I think I'm just going to call it a night."


End file.
